ROOTS

‘Such beautiful hair. No idea where you get it from.’ Her father smiled down at her, running his fingers through her light natural curls. She sat on his knee looking up at his proud smile and bald head.

What a mess she thought, staring in the mirror. Dressed in black, her hair a tangled mess of greying roots and split ends.

‘You should wear your hair natural. Don’t put all that gunk in it.’ She slammed the front door on his voice. She could do without her father’s fashion tips.

And thinning. For the first time she would have to contemplate getting it cut short.

‘Look at you. He’s one hell of a lucky guy. And you wore your hair down, just like I told you.’ The music began as the church doors opened. He put his guiding arm through hers.

She gave up trying to tie her hair up. She would wear it down one last time to say goodbye to him. She knew he would have wanted to see his daughter that way.

Copyright Fandango

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 – 175 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

Come on Iain, it’s not fair to make tears run down the cheeks of a grown man at this time in the morning. Thankfully I’m on my own. In my defence I’m still recovering from having watched Hacksaw Ridge a couple of days ago (recommended, but stock up on tissues).

Yes, a brilliant film. It’s a testament to your skill that Hacksaw Ridge had powerful images and stirring music to get my tear ducts flowing. You
only had a few words and a picture of a tree. Well done.

I really like where you took your title and the passing of time in your story – the unruly mane to thinning and contemplating the short cut. Dad will be proud of her. The love between father and daughter comes across so strong.